The End Of March.

 It was cold and windy, scarcely the day 
to take a walk on that long beach 
Everything was withdrawn as far as possible, 
indrawn: the tide far out, the ocean shrunken, 
seabirds in ones or twos. 
The rackety, icy, offshore wind 
numbed our faces on one side; 
disrupted the formation 
of a lone flight of Canada geese; 
and blew back the low, inaudible rollers 
in upright, steely mist.(.......)
by Elizabeth Bishop, an American poet